The spirits of writers and musicians, past and present, have never been too far away for Dent May, be it family friend Eudora Welty, who'd regularly sit in her folding chair at his local grocery observing everyday narratives unfold, or influence William Faulkner, who left a lasting impression on May's current home, Oxford, Miss.

So it was somewhat of a departure when May - first recognized for 2009's "The Good Feeling Music of Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele," released on Animal Collective's Paw Tracks imprint - decided to take his magnificent self, solo, to a sighing Victorian by the beach in historic St. Augustine, Fla., to record his third LP, "Warm Blanket."

"I wasn't around friends and kind of going crazy and losing touch with reality, at times," May, 28, says of that productive month, as he prepares to tour with cohorts from a "North Mississippi infotainment cult" dubbed Cats Purring. "It was kind of an experiment to get outside my comfort zone."

Things went bump in the night, but that's to be expected. "I did think the best songs are what I'm channeling from somewhere I don't really understand," he says. "I can't make any direct parallels between St. Augustine and the actual songs, but I think the best art, in general, just comes from the great beyond and what is unexplainable."

Laying a welcoming foundation with the church keys and close-knit harmonies of "Turn Up the Speakers," May sounds like he's beckoning a listener to lean in closer, for bittersweet yarns about small-town gossips ("Let Them Talk"), tongue-tied lovers ("Born Too Late") and newfound partners in crime ("Found a Friend"). The titular toasty coverlet might reference the comforts of '60s pop acts like Beach Boys and Harry Nilsson and inheritors such as Talk Talk and Girls - or the disc's cozy production, whimsically outfitted with bongos, tambourines, strings and synths.

"We'd pick a Netflix movie, and say, 'Let's not watch something heavy. I want a warm blanket,' " he says of Cats Purring Dude Ranch movie nights. "Though that's not what I call my music. I don't think my album is lightweight, but it is comforting and makes people feel better."

Even if it is simply feeling better about one's mortality, as with May's "I'm Ready to Be Old." "I'm ready to be old and wrinkly and gray / I'm ready to be old, and it's not far away," he vows in an unassuming antidote to "My Generation."

"It's a theme of pop music, being young and living forever," May says. "I kind of want to tear down the myth and find pleasure in the aging process."